


Interlude with an Angel

by DeansDirtyLittleSecret



Series: Angel and Demon [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Demon Cure, Demon Dean Winchester, Drinking, Exhibitionism, F/M, NSFW, POV Dean Winchester, Pain, Possessive Dean Winchester, Smut, Supernatural smut, Wall Sex, angel trying to save demon!dean, reader is an angel, use of grace to heal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-04
Updated: 2015-07-04
Packaged: 2018-04-07 15:49:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4269162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeansDirtyLittleSecret/pseuds/DeansDirtyLittleSecret
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Demon!Dean and the angel (reader) are continually drawn to each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Interlude with an Angel

She was following me, keeping tabs on me. My angel. I couldn’t pinpoint exactly when I’d come to think of her as “my angel” but when her face would appear in a crowd or I’d catch sight of her in whatever dead end town I was in, the first thought in my head was always “my angel.” We were still sharing some kind of weird connection, though it had weakened with time. Not that we needed the connection, she was never far, she stayed close by, watching me, waiting, though for what I didn’t know.

For a while I thought I could frighten her, force her away out of fear or disgust. I’d made sure she saw me kill those demons in the convenience store and that she knew I was with Crowley. I also made damn sure she knew I’d been sleeping with the pretty blonde waitress at that bar in North Dakota. I’d done it on purpose, knowing she would feel it all, every single thing. I wanted her out of my head and I couldn’t think of a better way to do it than to force her to deal with a pain I’d intentionally inflicted. I didn’t need her thinking she’d gotten to me.

The problem was, she had gotten to me. I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I itched to feel her soft skin under my hands, to make her moan with just a flick of my tongue or a touch of my hand. I wanted to feel her body writhing beneath me as I made her come. My thoughts would often wander in that direction, remembering the feel of her body against mine, how soft her hair was when I tangled it around my fingers as I held her head while she sucked me off, the taste of her as I ate her out. I wanted to bury myself inside her again, I wanted to feel her as she held me inside her when I came. I craved her like a drug.

But nothing I tried to get rid of her had worked. Eventually, it didn’t matter anymore, because I wanted her. I was glad that I hadn’t been able to scare her away. I wanted her nearby, I wanted to know where she was, what she was doing. I wanted her. She was mine.

I caught a glimpse of her one night inside a crowded seedy bar in some medium sized town in the middle of some medium sized state. I saw just the top of her head as she slipped out a side door. Something inside me snapped and I knew I needed her. It couldn’t wait or be satiated by some other woman. It had to be her. I set my beer on the bar and brushed off the woman hanging off my arm and took off after her.

I pushed the door open so hard it slammed into the wall. “Y/N!” I yelled. I was surprised when she stopped, one hand resting on the wall. She slowly turned to face me.

“Dean,” she murmured as she took a step away from me. “You weren’t supposed to see me.” She took another step back, though I knew she wasn’t scared.

“I always know you’re there,” I said. I caught up with her, took her arm and pulled her deeper into the dark alley. I pressed her back against the wall and put my hands on either side of her head. “What are you doing here?”

“Watching over you,” she replied, her voice quiet and gentle, like a caress against my skin.

“Why?” I demanded.

She bit her lip and shook her head, refusing to meet my eyes.

“Do you know what you did to me?” I asked.

She nodded. “I was trying to cure you, to help you.”

“Oh, I know, angel,” I grumbled. “But it didn’t work, did it? Though it played a hell of a number on both of us, wouldn’t you say?”

She just nodded, staring at her feet.

“Look at me,” I ordered.

Her head came up slowly and when her eyes met mine, I didn’t see any fear in them. Instead, I saw exactly what I was feeling. Desire.

I shoved my knee between her legs, pushing it against her warm core. I wrapped my hand around the back of her neck and pressed my lips to her ear. “You want me, don’t you?” I whispered.

I could feel the goosebumps on her skin as she shivered. I could smell her, a mixture of cinnamon and vanilla. I could feel the desire coursing through her body. She didn’t answer me, just nodded her head minutely.

It was all I needed. I dragged my lips along her jaw to her mouth, forcing it open with my tongue, kissing her deeply. I yanked up her skirt, pushing it above her waist, and shoved aside her panties, my fingers easily sliding along her folds and inside her. She moaned and took a hold of my other hand, pulling it down to cup her breast. She rubbed her hand over the hard bulge in my jeans as she ground herself against my seeking fingers.

I ripped open my jeans, pushed them down just past my hips, then I easily picked Y/N up and held her against the wall. She had one hand tangled in my hair and the other digging into my shoulder, her nails biting into my skin. I lowered her onto my cock, thrusting deep inside her with a loud groan. Her head fell back against the wall and she squeezed her eyes shut, moaning my name quietly. I braced myself with one arm against the cold brick wall and slammed into her, over and over, not holding back, not caring about anything other than the feel of my angel as I took her, the smell of her filling my nose, the taste of her skin on my lips as I kissed her everywhere my mouth could reach.

She was gasping and panting my name over and over, every movement I made punctuated by a satisfied moan. I grabbed her hair and forced her to look at me. Her eyes were wide, her pupils lust blown and beautiful, her mouth parted slightly as I moved inside her. I thrust into her, hard, burying myself deep in her wet heat. I leaned into her, holding her body against the wall with mine.

“Tell me who you belong to,” I ordered.

She shook her head, but her body betrayed her as she struggled to push her hips down onto me. I tilted my hips up slightly, drawing a tiny gasp from her. I slowly circled them and I could feel her walls clenching around me, holding me inside her, just like I remembered. I was barely able to contain myself; I wanted to fuck her, to take her so hard I left marks on her, all the better to remind her who she belonged to. But I needed to hear her say it, hear her tell me she was mine and no one else’s.

“Say it, angel,” I whispered, rubbing my cheek against hers as I murmured in her ear. “Tell me you’re mine. Tell me and I’ll let you come, I’ll make you feel so good that you’ll come unglued. Do it, angel. Tell me.”

Y/N moaned, her body squirming as I held her, refusing to let her finish. I released my hold on her hair and slipped my hand between our bodies, my thumb seeking and finding her swollen clit, barely grazing it as I slowly slid my cock out of her, leaving just the tip inside her. I kissed her neck, right under her ear, my tongue slipping out to run along the edge of her jaw. I slowly pushed myself back inside her, agonizingly slow, forcing myself to take my time.

“You, Dean,” she moaned. “I belong to you.”

“That’s my angel,” I whispered before thrusting into her with a snap of my hips, my thumb pressing against her clit.

She screamed, a low keen of pleasure. She pulled my mouth to hers, her tongue pushing past my lips and into my mouth, kissing me as if her life depended on it. I pumped into her, fast and hard until I felt her grace roar through me as she came. Two more thrusts of my hips and I was coming, my head resting against her chest as I pulled her down onto me.

She wrapped her arms around my head, holding me to her. She pressed her mouth to my ear. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “It got away from me. I wasn’t trying, I swear.”

I looked up at her and I could see the truth in her eyes. I could already feel her grace as it moved through me, under my skin and into my nerve endings. I kissed her, wanting to hold on to the feeling of her as a part of me as long as I could.

But it had to end. When I heard the door to the bar at the end of the alley open, I broke off the kiss and set her on her feet. While she put her clothes back in place, I pulled my jeans back on. I trapped her between my arms one more time and pressed a kiss to her lips.

“Thanks, angel,” I said before turning and walking back down the alley as quickly as I could. I needed to get away from her before the pain hit, before she realized what she had done to me, before she knew the hold she had on me, that the connection had returned. I couldn’t let her see it.


End file.
